


this is how the world ends

by pindenial



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego/Klaus if you squint, Drabble, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 07:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pindenial/pseuds/pindenial
Summary: And even now, as the whispers are starting and the dead will soon be on him, a single thought burns through Klaus, brighter than any other: Diego cannot die.





	this is how the world ends

**Author's Note:**

> Klaus-centric drabble set nowhere in particular. Someone please hug my precious cinnamon roll.

Klaus smells. Doesn't need anyone to tell him either- it's the natural conclusion of a three day drug-fuelled fuckfest that landed him in the dumpster outside the academy. Every bone in him aches something wicked, every hair on his body crawling to get free of the sticky, sweat-dry skin.

It is pure chance that it's Diego that finds him. (The universe has always hated him.) Smacks him in the face with a bag full of trash. Stops to peer in when said bag of garbage lets out a little whine of pain. He is, as always, deeply unimpressed to find Klaus in any state of dishevelment. Sighs quietly as his eyes- too fucking soft, too fucking brown- look down at Klaus in a way that's too warm to be pity. Silently, Diego tells him to do better.

Do better, even as the Kraken reaches in and hauls the other man from the dumpster. Do better as he drags him indoors and runs him a bath and tells him that he's a fucking trainwreck, bro. Tells him that he reeks. It's the last bit that hurts the most. Klaus is a mess, has always been a mess, but elsewhere. Away from the people who care a little bit less every time they find him like this. To know that he's trudged it into the house, this weakness, like muddy boots on a cream carpet, makes his skin crawl.

They all have issues. The world's about to end and they're all so emotionally wrecked that they cannot get their shit together enough to fix it. And it's funny, Klaus thinks, says so, as Diego watches him from his perch on the sink. Reginald's great army, undermined by their inability to be regular fucking people. Pulls a half-smile from Diego despite the man's surliness and it feels like a different sort of high, altogether.

It's always been this way with Diego. And maybe the others can't see it, or maybe they choose not to, but Diego is good. And not holier-than-thou in the way that Luther tries to dish out justice or kind in the way that Vanya or Ben are willing to tolerate him, always listening to what Klaus isn’t saying. But good in that he's full of the same faith that keeps God alive. Good in the way that he still, despite all their trauma, lets his heart lead his actions.

And he's hot-headed, impulsive, irrational and capable of violence that Klaus cannot even begin to imagine, but Klaus has seen those same hands with Mom. Delicate, careful. Artist's hands, Klaus thinks, though he's never seen Diego be creative in his life.

"You really do chat a lotta shit," Diego says into the stillness of the bathroom, and maybe Klaus has been speaking aloud. Green eyes meet brown and there's a look there that confirms it. Because it is a look that shoots straight to Klaus' heart, something that allows him to dream. To want. And there are times that it hurts so much that Klaus almost misses the visitations of the dead. When Klaus' high is jagged and painful and that dark, sweet gaze is in every passerby, in every fucking cowboy at whatever sordid bar Klaus has managed to roll himself into. Shuts his eyes and it's still there, burnt into the backs of his eyelids.

And even now, as the whispers are starting and the dead will soon be on him, a single thought burns through Klaus, brighter than any other: Diego cannot die. The apocalypse is almost upon them and Klaus will not let him go like that.

"Not with a bang but a whimper.” He giggles, pauses. “I think I'm sobering up." Klaus says, skin starting to prune and fingers itching for a cigarette. And yes, Ben is back, muttering disappointments, sullen expression on his youthful face. And Klaus can probably count in minutes when the first dead will appear, begging for some sort of relief or affirmation of their past lives. Begging for justice.

Shouldn’t be long before the withdrawals start anew.

“Good.”

“Going to need some help staying that way.”

Diego nods, less cocksure than he was even days ago, when this whole shitshow began.“Well you’ve got all of us now, to help.” 

Klaus thinks of Dave and how Dave has shattered him into pieces. Of Diego’s lady-cop, thinks of how she’s probably the reason he’s still alive, and wow that hurts. That fucking aches and God he owes him. Owes him the whole fucking world, highs be fucking damned. Thinks of his family, of dead mother and father, of Five who’s probably still missing and the hostility between Luther and Diego and the thought is almost funny. Because how is this any different than before? 

It is Diego’s expression, the resolute set to his mouth, that allows Klaus, however briefly, to hope.


End file.
